Wednesday, September 12, 2012

Sitting in class as the teacher goes one by one down the rows of desks asking each person a question to the homework. I'm sitting at my desk counting how many more students until it's my turn, how much time is left on the clock, hoping class will end before it is time for me to answer. Since it was normally done in the beginning of class this wasn't usually the case. As it gets closer and closer to my turn I am sweating, shaking, my heart is pounding out of my chest, and all I really want to do is get the hell out.

Having to read a report in front of my 10th grade Biology class, I feel like I am going to puke. I read the 5-6 page report, trying to focus on the words to read. After I finish, so glad it is over, my teacher asks "Are you done?" I say yes. "Good, now read it from the beginning. You read it too fast and no one could understand you."

Never wanting to raise my hand in class because I don't want to be called on, then raising my hand because I realized thet usually called me because my hand was always down.

Not going to reward ceremonies because honestly whenever I went on a stage I felt like I would pass out. Everyone wondered why I wanted to quit band so badly. I'd be such a wreck I'd forget how to read the notes.

They did try to put me on anxiety medication and I practically had a nervous breakdown due to the reaction I had from them. That didn't work. The only time and place I felt comfortable was downstairs in the art rooms. That is truly the only place I felt I could breath, until I went home.

Teachers thought I didn't care, or wasn't trying. I felt like a huge weirdo, no one else I knew felt this way, or talked about it if they did. I tried to hide it as much as I could. I didn't want to give anyone reason to give me crap for it. I did have one teacher who noticed and had me go see the school counselor, who showed me a picture of a welcome mat with a face on it and told me it was Patsy Passive and that was who I was. They had good intentions but that didn't really help any.

So from Preschool to 12th grade I was pretty much a nervous wreck until summer. I loved summer vacation. I was also the one who always walked to the teachers desk or stayed after class to ask something because I didn't want anyone to hear me.

It took me until my late 20's to even think of going to college because I knew what hell it was for me in school before. I wish I went earlier now, but what can you do.

I am 30 years old and still struggle with anxiety. My anxiety keeps me from driving. I have tried many MANY meds for anxiety after what happened in high school. I was reluctant, and rightfully so. After each med made me feel screwy they just kept adding more. It was terrible and I lost many friends because they didn't realize it was a bad reaction to medicine that was making me act the way I was. I stopped all but Zoloft which helps a little but I still have anxiety.

Funny thing about having anxiety: you know it's not a normal reaction to have to whatever situation you are having anxiety about. You can't help it no matter how much you want to, or how silly you know it is. I am not writing this for sympathy. All I want from this is for a teacher to maybe notice the signs and maybe realize that it might not be a lazy student but a anxious person, or for a student to know that they are not alone feeling the way they do.

About Me

I am a crochet artist from Massachusetts. My Nan taught me when I was 10. I'll mostly be posting about my current projects, and being a Mom. I call the little aliens I make Crochetliens, I also make animals and dolls.